


Trapped

by ofahattersmind



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-20
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 11:50:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6609667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofahattersmind/pseuds/ofahattersmind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The characters of Tolkien's 'The Hobbit' and 'The Lord of the Rings' find themselves stranded in a small town in the Blue Ridge foothills of North Carolina. How did they get there, and why is Kili the only one who remembers his life in Middle Earth while every one else walks around with false memories of a foreign world?</p><p>Heavily inspired by damnitfili's modern Hobbit edits on tumblr with an added twist of the show Once Upon A Time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girlmarvel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlmarvel/gifts).



     Kíli crept through the dim halls of a small town museum. Red exit lights offered just enough light to see by, though he'd spent enough time in the exhibits during daylight hours that his feet knew the way by heart. He skipped the wing holding artifacts from the town's history, threading through rows of glass covered tables to the back of the museum where a huge banner emblazoned "J.R.R. TOLKIEN" hung above locked double doors. Kíli dug in the front pocket of his jeans and produced tools he hoped would jimmy the lock.

     Several sweaty minutes later, a satisfying click shattered the silence and Kili froze, heart pounding as he listened for any alarms, footsteps or sirens. Hearing nothing more than blood thundering in his ears, he breathed a shaky sigh and painstakingly eased the door open. Low lights ran along the bottom edges of display cases and shelving, illuminating a fantastic collection of Tolkien's personal papers and first edition copies of his books, along with posters, photos, costume and prop replicas from Peter Jackson's filmed renditions of The Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit.

     To the last was Kíli drawn, his breath catching in his throat as he reached the display containing replicas of the Company of Thorin's personal effects. His eyes misted as he took it all in, each keepsake as precious to him now as if it were his own. He shook himself, remembering that he was here for a reason and was wasting time. Pulling his sleeve down over his knuckles and balling the cuff in his fist, Kíli shattered the glass with a swift jab. Alarms blared, but he'd expected that and ignored them as he snatched his runestone and a few other items from the shelves. Shoving them in his pockets, he bolted for the emergency exit as police sirens wailed.

*   *   *

     The curator watched from the window of his apartment above the museum as a young man exploded through the back door and sprinted across the rear lot. Once the thief cleared the tree line beyond, the curator lifted a cell phone to his ear and murmured into the receiver.

     "You may dispense with the theatrics, Sheriff."

     A couple moments later, the sirens cut off mid-shriek. The curator smiled and hung up. His plan was coming together beautifully, and the foolish little dwarf had no idea he was a pawn in a much, _much_ larger game.


	2. Welcome to Lonely Mountain, USA

THREE DAYS EARLIER

     Dazed and utterly bewildered, Erica Farrow staggered down the main street of a small town. Signs and shop windows on every side announced proud citizenship of Lonely Mountain, North Carolina. It was name she'd never heard before, but this obscure moniker wasn't the cause of her confusion. No, the detail which left her reeling had to be the fact that until ten minutes ago, Erica had been hiking through uninhabited forest in the Blue Ridge foothills. Ten minutes ago, the town of Lonely Mountain didn't exist.

* * *

     Kíli's hands fell helplessly to his sides, and he cursed himself for a fool as his brother stormed off. His efforts to convince Fíli of the truth fell short once again. But then, how could he have expected today to be different than any of the last 28,855 days?

     He shoved his hands in his pockets and trudged down Main Street of Lonely Mountain, USA. Eye contact was a thing easily avoided, seeing as the people here followed the same exact routine every day since Professor J.R.R. Tolkien published The Hobbit in 1937. Like sleepwalkers, the citizens of the tiny town went about their days without a clue that they'd done it all before. It didn't take long for Kíli to realize he was alone in his knowledge of Middle Earth and what came before the banishment to this strange world. Though he knew some of the citizens as friends and family members, there were many others whom he did not recognize. For decades Kíli searched for answers. There had to be some clue, some detail he must have missed.

     Nothing.

     And so, as the last flicker of hope began to gutter and fade out in his heart, Kíli ran into a pedestrian on the sidewalk. He stared, and she stared back. Instead of the hazy indifference of the sleepwalking townsfolk, her eyes were crystal clear and full of remorse.

     "Sorry," she said quickly before hunching her shoulders and continuing on.

     It took Kíli a three count to comprehend what happened. One. After nearly a century of reliving the same day, he had memorized the activities of the townsfolk. He could walk through the town blindfolded and not brush a single shoulder. Two. He'd memorized every face - even the ones he didn't remember from Middle Earth - and he'd never seen this girl before. Three. In seventy nine years, no one had entered or left the town.

     Kíli's heart raced as he spun on his heel and caught up with the girl. Something had changed. He didn't know what exactly, but hope roared to a blaze in his chest. Suddenly a light shone at the end of this interminable tunnel, and maybe, just maybe, that girl could help him get there.

     "Excuse me," he said, and she turned to him with a distracted frown. "You're not from around here, are you?"

     A mirthless chuckle escaped her, and she shook her head. "I'm not even sure where here is."

     Kíli chewed his lip, quickly coming to a decision. The truth was crazy, but the way she studied the town around her suggested she might already have doubts about the quaint little place. Perhaps she might believe the truth. She looked lost and not a little terrified. This girl needed to relax before he told her anything.

     "You look like you could use a coffee," he offered with a smile.

     "That's the sanest thing I've heard in the last ten minutes," she accepted. "I'll follow you."


	3. Chapter 3

EREBOR  
79 Years Ago

     Laughter and dancing filled every corridor, golden light illuminating the mountain city high above and in her very depths, and Kíli didn't care if the ale was to blame for the hazy glow clouding his vision. Fíli guffawed and slammed his tankard on the table, Dwalin's own bellowing laughter exploding as well. The merriment, contagious as it was, swept through the nearby dwarrows like fire whether they'd heard the joke or not.

     Thorin Oakenshield lifted his hands and waited for the bedlam to subside, but the ale flowed and spirits soared to the mountain peak and beyond. Shrugging good naturedly, he held his tankard high.

     "TO EREBOR!" he roared.

     "EREBOR!" cheered his kin.

     The king took advantage of the brief lull provided by tankard bottoms raised heavenward.

     "To our kingdom, reclaimed and restored these last ten years, and to the Company," he exclaimed, voice carrying over all, "for following this mad bastard into a dragon's maw!"

     The citizens of Erebor whistled and hurrahed as the Company's howling laughter answered Thorin's praise.

     Kíli staggered away early, the ale already unforgiving. Groaning and pressing palms to temples, he made his excuses in some garbled tongue that could hardly be considered a language and gingerly made his retreat. As he reached the outer hall, dizziness overwhelmed him and he clutched the wall for support.

      _Ugh_.

     "That last was five too many," he moaned to himself. The scuff of footsteps alerted his groggy mind, and he looked up in a daze.

     "Are you alright, my lad?"

     An odd little old man with graying hair and strange clothes leaned over Kíli, his hand gripping the dwarf's as the latter swayed dangerously.

     "I'll b'fine," Kíli slurred with a frown, squinting at the stranger. "Def'nitely too much ale."

     The man smiled at him. Maybe it was the brew talking, but Kíli could have sworn the look was fond...doting, even. The stranger was giving him the same look he'd seen on his own mother's face countless times. A parent's love.

     "Who...you?" Kíli wondered. His vision doubled and tripled.

     "No one special," the man replied with a glint in his eye.

     "Huh," mumbled Kíli as he passed out.

 

LONELY MOUNTAIN, USA  
Present Day

     The rich smell of ground coffee.

     Soft music.

     Low chatter drifted from a table or two of regular customers.

     Course after several decades of unknowingly visiting the same cafe, Kíli supposed 'regular' to be an understatement. Flashing a quick smile of gratitude, he handed over cash and tip for the coffees and beelined for the skittish newcomer. Her gaze followed him through the small shop, eyes slightly unfocused as if seeing nothing and everything at once. He took a deep breath, wishing for the umpteenth time that his brother hadn't lost his memory along with everyone else. Fíli possessed greater tact than Kíli could hope to acquire himself. That said, he hadn't a bloody clue what he was going to say to the girl.

 

     Erica definitely did not snatch the coffee from the guy's hands before inhaling deeply. The brew warmed her through, and he chuckled into his own mug as she downed hers as quickly as possible without burning herself.

     "Better?" he wondered.

     "Much," she sighed, though her frown stated the opposite. This place gave her the creeps. Everything - absolutely everything - in Lonely Mountain held some connection to J. R. R. Tolkien's books, right down to the beverage names listed on the coffee shop's brightly colored menu board.

     "Kíli."

     Erica frowned at her recent acquaintance. "What?"

     "My name," he said carefully, "is Kíli."

     He studied her, gauging her reaction. She chuckled, not a little hysterical.

     "Sure it is."

     "No, it's true," he insisted with a smile. She arched a brow, skeptical, but he was serious.

     "What is with this town?" she muttered.

     Any other day, this idea of a place like this would have been Erica's dream vacation. She loved Tolkien's world. The characters and story were incredible, and Middle Earth was a perfect place to lose oneself - in theory. A year-round Tolkien themed town in practice? Not so awesome, especially since Erica was pretty sure it didn't actually exist in the first place. She glanced at her hand, trying to ground herself in reality.

      _Crap_.

     The cut still stretched across her palm, stinging as badly as the moment she stumbled while hiking. She'd forgotten about it almost immediately. Understandable, given the fact that she climbed to her feet and found herself in the middle of a town instead of an unpopulated stretch of the Blue Ridge. She sighed, reaching for the first aid kit in her pack.

     "Is everyone in this town Tolkien obsessed?" she said absently.

     Kíli grinned, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "Yes and no."

     They lapsed into silence while she bandaged the cut.

 

     Kíli gnawed on his lip. Well, she hadn't freaked out so far. Maybe she would believe the truth?

     As she finished securing the bandage, he cleared his throat.

     "Will you be staying in town?" he asked.

     She hummed indecisively and pulled her phone from her pocket.

     "No signal," she muttered. "Of course. This is what I get for hiking in the middle of nowhere. You wouldn't happen to have a phone on you?"

     Kíli offered an apologetic smile and shook his head. "Sorry. Not much use for it out here."

     "I guess I shouldn't be surprised, given the crappy signal. Alright, then. Any chance I could catch a bus or use a land line to call a taxi?"

     Kíli was already shaking his head. "No bus lines, and a taxi would cost a fortune way out here."

     Not to mention they wouldn't even be able to find the place, he added to himself.

     "And in a town small as this, I'm guessing renting a car is as likely as a blizzard in Florida."

     "Less than likely," he affirmed.

     "Well, then I'll have to ask your friendly neighborhood policeman for a ride then. Assuming that you actually have one," she commented dryly.

     Kíli nodded and pressed his lips together, scooting away from the table. Sooner or later she was going to realize that she couldn't leave. Given her desperation, he had a feeling it would be sooner. Gesturing toward the door, he mustered a helpful smile.

     "After you."

 

     "I never did catch your name."

     "Erica."

     The offhanded reply fell from her lips as she slipped through the door and back outside. A chill snuck inside her collar and down her spine. The sun disappeared behind the antique storefronts and warm yellow lights flickered to life along the street. _What the heck?_

     "Wasn't it just morning?"

     Kíli shrugged beside her, expression unreadable.

     "Time flies here," he responded with a hint of sarcasm.

     Panic threatened to strangle Erica for the thousandth time that day, but she took a deep breath and squashed her feelings as best she could. There wasn't time for a meltdown. The police station sat tucked a few buildings down, a lonely patrol car parked out front. To call the station small would be an understatement. Erica shook her head in disbelief.

     "Let me guess," she commented dryly, "bigger on the inside?"

     "Only just," Kíli chuckled edgily, smile strained.

     Erica frowned, glancing between him and the brick face of the station.

     "Not a fan of law enforcement?" she asked.

     "You could say that."

     Kíli shifted his weight, and Erica faced him fully. He wasn't just uneasy. He was terrified.

     "You okay?" she pressed. "Are you in some kind of-?"

     "Be careful," he interrupted. "Nothing here is what it seems. If you need me, I'll be around."

     Before Erica managed to be properly confused, Kíli was halfway down the street. She swallowed, throat suddenly dry. The chill returned, this time having nothing to do with the breeze.

     "Well," she muttered and gripped the door handle. "You're not wrong."


	4. Chapter 4

EREBOR

THEN

     Kíli woke in his own room, sprawled on his bed and hugging an empty wash basin. He sat up, regretted it immensely and clung to the basin for dear life.

     "Mahal," he moaned.

     "Ah, he lives!"

     Kíli squinted, searching the blurry room. "Who's there? And for pity's sake, please lower your voice."

     "Apologies, dear boy."

     The strange old man materialized as he stepped into Kíli's line of sight.

     "How are you feeling?"

     "Bleedin' terrible."

     "Excellent. Come over here," the man said. He gripped Kíli's elbow, supporting his weight as he swayed dangerously toward the low table near the fire place. Kíli shielded his eyes from the light, though the fire burned low.

     "Drink this."

     Kíli felt a warm mug slide into his hand, and he sniffed hesitantly. The rich scent of coffee filled his nose, and he sipped gratefully at the brew.

     "Cheers."

     "My pleasure," replied the old man. He sat back in the chair, hands folded neatly in his lap.

     Halfway through his second cup, Kíli's mind cleared enough to wonder at the man's identity. And what on earth he was doing in Erebor. Strange it was not for visitors of other races to frequent the city under the mountain, but this man was unlike any Kíli had ever met or heard of.

     "Who are you, stranger?" he murmured. "What is your business here?"

     The man smiled, settling further into the chair.  
  
     "Do you wish to know? Truly?"  
  
     Kíli frowned. "Well, yeah."

     "Very well," the man sighed and refilled Kíli's mug again. "I've sent for some food. It should be along shortly, which is just as well. Best get comfortable, lad, for I've quite the tale to tell. For starters, I'll address your query regarding who I am. I am called many things, but to most folk I am simply known as the Professor."

 

*   *   *   *   *   *

 

LONELY MOUNTAIN, USA

NOW

     "'Only just'," Erica muttered. Overstatement of the century.

     A one room police station confronted her like something out of the Andy Griffith Show. Two desks littered in old rotary phones, case files and ancient looking computer monitors sat in a box of glass which might have been called an office if it didn't resemble a medium sized fish tank. The cells were laughably small and open, iron bars the only barrier between prisoners and the rest of the station. Erica noted the empty cots inside and wondered if their vacancy meant a low crime rate or a corrupt police force. She frowned, shaking the latter thought away in vain. Doubt buzzed in her mind, whether because of Kíli's warning or due to the circumstances of her arrival, she couldn't decide. Probably both. Before she could heed her gut and duck out to the street, a burst of radio static made her jump as a half hidden back door in the office groaned open.

     "Keep forgetting to oil that," a tall policeman scolded himself. Only after bolting the door behind him and shucking his coat and cap did he notice his visitor. He frowned, a single brow reaching for a hairline that no longer existed. The guy was an absolute bruiser, the shoulder seams of his uniform threatening mutiny if he so much as flexed.

     "May I help you?"

     NO THANKS, screamed Erica's gut.

     "I hope so," she said instead.

 

* * * * * *

 

     Kíli breathed deep and gritted his teeth. Used dishes and beer cans littered every surface. Blue light and shouting spilled from the living room doorway. He already knew what he'd find there. The TV would still be on, his uncle surely passed out on the couch. The sound of a trash bag being snapped open meant Fíli was already cleaning up and didn't want to talk. Kíli sighed and beelined for the fridge, grabbing a Mountain Dew before trudging upstairs. This world had its faults, but soda wasn't one of them. He'd chugged half the can before the top step and nearly finished by the time he saw his bedroom door ajar. His stomach back flipped as he dove inside. Papers and notebooks lay scattered and dumped on the floor, and in the midst of the chaos his uncle sat leafing through lists of names.

     "Thought I told you to get rid of this."

     Kíli swallowed hard, hands curling into fists. Since the day he woke up in the town of Lonely Mountain and forgot everything, Thorin Oakenshield, champion of the Longbeards and King of Erebor, was no more. Instead, Kíli found himself living with a mindless alcoholic who was useless on his best days and a walking nightmare on his worst. Never had he been remotely sober. Gone was loving Uncle Thorin. All Kíli had left was a shadow.

     A shadow who wanted nothing to do with the truth. When Kíli didn't respond, Thorin lurched from the foot of the bed, gesturing wildly.

     "And I know I told you to get rid of THAT!"

     Kíli's eyes drifted over the walls in question, covered floor to ceiling in newspaper clippings, notes, photographs, book excerpts and miles of colored cord linking one piece of paper to another in an endless road map that only he understood.

     "And I told you never to come in here," Kíli replied coolly.

     Feet pounded up the staircase. If at all possible, more blood vessels burst in in Thorin's already red eyes. His face twisted in hideous rage, all teeth and spit as he snatched a fistful of Kíli's shirt and raised his other hand, fingers curled and knuckles white. Kíli's jaw muscles ticked and his eyes narrowed defiantly. Thorin snarled.

     The blow never landed. Fíli appeared, their uncle's wrist caught firmly in steely fingers.

     "Go sleep it off before I make you, old man," Fíli hissed. He tightened his grip, staring him down until Thorin winced and released Kíli, shoving him away.

     "I better not see this in here tomorrow," he grumbled and stumbled out.

     * * * * * *

     "You'll be too far gone to care tomorrow," Kelly muttered and slammed the door. Felix sighed. His younger brother ignored him, bending to collect photos and notes like so many scattered leaves.

     "I thought we agreed, Kells."

     Kelly scowled and threw the gathered stack on his bed. "You agreed."

     Felix caught his eyes, careful not to actually touch him. Altercations with their uncle always left Kelly jumpy and waspish. Kelly's nostrils flared with each exhale, his eyes dark with pain. Heart twisting, Felix pinched the bridge of his nose.

     "I can't do this anymore."

     Kelly frowned. "Fíli..."

     "NO," Felix shouted. "THIS! Day after day. I can't keep arguing with you. Fíli and Kíli aren't real. We need to get out of this place, man."

     "Wait, what?" Kelly's eyes blew wide, and he bent forward a little, reacting as if he'd been punched after all. "You mean... leave, leave?"

     Felix gaped. "Wow, really? All you ever talk about is leaving. I thought you'd be happy."

     He thrust his finger at the floor. "I won't always be here to get between you two, and he's getting worse. Eventually, one of you will do something you'll regret-"

     "That isn't my uncle," Kelly seethed. "And he doesn't regret anything."

     Felix lifted a hand. "All the same, you will regret. And that's the point. There's nothing for us here. We always talked about going to school out of state. I think we should go. Look."

 

     * * * * * *

 

     Fíli pulled folded envelopes out of his back pocket and offered them to Kíli.

     "Acceptance letters," he said. "All the schools we talked about. Accepted, every one. Pick one, Kells-"

     Stop, Kíli mouthed.

     "-in the meantime, we're out of here. We'll go wherever you want, do things we only ever wished we could-"

     "No," he whispered.

     "-backpack across the Blue Ridge, travel up the coast from the Outer Banks to Maine, go diving in the Gulf of Mexico-"

     "STOP IT."

     Fíli closed his mouth, eyes glistening. "I can see you need some time. I'll leave these here."

     He placed the letters on Kíli's bedside table. "Either way, I'm getting out. I want you to come with me. I don't like the thought of you staying with him. Can't stand it. But I've made my decision and already gave my notice at the shop. As soon as I collect my paycheck on Friday, I'm putting this town in my rear view mirror."

     Kíli opened and closed his mouth.

     Fíli's lips twisted in a bittersweet grin. "Don't say anything now. I know that this," he waved at the walls, "means a lot to you, and what I'm asking you to decide is a tough choice. Just think about it. Please."

     He squeezed Kíli's shoulder as he passed. Then he was gone, the door clicking softly shut behind him. Kíli sank to the floor and buried his head in his hands.

     "Can this week get any worse?" he choked.


	5. Chapter 5

     Deep breaths. Hold it together. Breathe.

     Panic squeezed Kili's chest tighter, warring with the dizzying swell of hope in his mind. Someone from this world had managed to find and enter Lonely Mountain. Fantastic! Thorin and Fili's behavior and actions earlier in the evening deviated from their preprogrammed lives, leading Kili to believe that Erica's arrival was no mere fluke. As monumental as that was, it also spelled disaster. Fili meant to cross the town line in four days, which absolutely could not happen.

* * * *

     "A ride?"

     Erica nodded at the policeman.

     "If that's possible," she said quickly. "My car's up on the Blue Ridge Parkway. I only hiked a couple of hours before I got here."

     She decided to leave out the part about literally stumbling into town.

     "Happy too, miss...?"

     "Erica! Thank you _so_ much," she gushed.

     "Miss Erica," he greeted warmly. "I'll drive you up in the morning."

     Her stomach back flipped. "Oh, I...well, I was hoping you could take me tonight. It's not that late, and my hotel's only an hour down the mountain from where I parked."

     The policeman smiled tightly. "Sorry," he apologized, "but we had some pretty heavy rains the last few days, and there are trees down on the only road out. Can't get 'em cleared 'til morning."

     Erica blew at loose hair falling in her face and flopped into one of the office chairs.

     "Awesome."

     "I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I can put you up in the B & B. No charge."

     She frowned, having to remind herself that the endearment wasn't meant as a flirt. In the South, such names were as commonly bestowed on strangers as sweet tea. She eyed the cop, skeptical.

     "Free? For real?"

     He grinned. "For real. Complimentary breakfast included."

     "Wow. Southern hospitality is no joke to you guys, huh?"

     "We take it very seriously," he said, eyes glinting with amusement as he grabbed his coat. "This way."

* * * *

     "Oh. My. GOD."

     Charming, quaint and _expensive_. Erica gaped at her accommodations. Antique furnishings gracefully cluttered a lavish suite of three adjoining rooms, one of which being a bathroom she could drive a school bus through. She hesitated in the sitting room, hugging her backpack. It wasn't worthy of the furniture, so she set it gently on the rug at her feet.

     "No way I could afford this. Ever."

     An hour later found her climbing onto a four poster bed whilst debating whether to draw the curtains down while she slept. Anxiety quickly overruled the idea and she'd just flopped back into a dozen fluffy pillows when a sharp rap startled her so violently she fell off the bed.

     "Oof," she groaned.

     The rap came again, and Erica frowned at the window where a scruffy, bright eyed face appeared.

     "Let me in!" Kili hissed.

     Erica swallowed her pounding heart and hissed back, "Do you know what time it is?!"

     Kili shrugged absently. "Do you?"

     She didn't. "What do you want?" she huffed.

     "To come in. It's freezing out here!"

     She was going to refuse. Her lips were already forming the word no when she realized, "This is the third floor! How the hell did you get up here?"

     "I have a very specific skill set," Kili evaded. "Now will you open the window? We need to talk."

     The puppy eyes weren't the reason she let him in. Her reasoning lay more along the lines of morbid curiosity - the kind that keeps you watching a movie or reading a book in spite of the messy plot twist you spy a mile away.

     " _UGH_. Fine."

     The latch on the window stuck briefly before giving way, and she heaved it open with a grunt. Kili slipped through the window with an ease she could only wonder at, brisk night air following him in like a loyal pup. Erica shuddered and hauled the window back down.

     "It _is_ freezing."

     "Told you," Kili grumped into his frigid fingers. After a couple moments of vigorous rubbing, his semi-warm hands dropped to his hips. He glanced at Erica. Arms crossed over her chest and looking more or less lost and put out, he wondered briefly if he should leave the way he came and let her be. The thought of Fili and every day spent trapped in this world quickly put that notion to rest.

     "Well?" she prompted. "What's so important?"

     "Look, there's no easy way to say this," he began, "so I'm just gonna be blunt as possible..."

     "I wish you would."

     A surprised chuckle escaped him. "It'd be a bit easier if you didn't interrupt, I think."

     She pressed her lips together and raised her brows, a bit mocking. Kili sighed in a heavy rush, wishing his ease of speaking his mind hadn't suddenly abandoned him.

     "Alright, okay. Here's the thing - I'm Kíli."

     "Yeah, I know. You told me that this morning."

     "No, that's not what I-ugh. I'm _the_ Kíli. The dwarf from  The Hobbit. This town - everyone here - we're from Middle Earth."

     "Okay, get out."

     Erica wore a pleasant mix of skepticism and irritation on her face as she pointed to the window. Kili took a deep breath. He wanted to press on. Needed her to believe. But she was obviously tired and very much not in the mood.

     "Alright," he murmured and stepped back to the window. He opened it without any trouble and slung his leg outside, glancing over his shoulder. "I know you think there's something wrong with this place. It's written all over your face."

     Erica's frown deepened. Kili leaned out, his fingertips the only thing keeping him in place.

     "Wait," she groaned. She pinched the bridge of her nose as he climbed back in. The whole situation was fixing to give her a migraine. But he was right. Her curiosity piqued hours ago, and while she was dying to get some sleep and just get out of town, her experience today would forever linger in her mind. An unsolved mystery.

     Kili shut the window behind him, striding to the sofa. He plopped unceremoniously down, making the antique legs creak and Erica cringe.

     "Spill," she demanded.

     "Sit," he countered. She grudgingly obliged, and he leaned forward, hands on his knees.

     "Here's the deal."


End file.
